Lightbearer, Christ bearer, Mother of Hope.
Given us by God to bring God to us.
Sedes sapientiae, Seat of Wisdom
Hearer and doer of the Father's Word.
Virgin mother, all glorious within,
Pure light before dawn, bright star of the sea.
You shine in my thoughts, in my dreams draw near,
Radiant with the Son which love brought forth,
Your dear Christ child, my Lord, the Paschal lamb.
The heart of your life is life of my heart
The Logos of God, the fruit of your womb
Jesus of Mary, Salvator Mundi.
I love you dear Lady, mother of mine
In giving us Him you give us your Self
This is by me so I'm probably the last person in the world to comment upon it. You may wonder why in a series featuring real poems by proper poets I have the chutzpah to include my own work. Two things-
Firstly, this is, after all, my blog and if I don't publish my poems it is certain that no one else will. And, more importantly,
Secondly, when a child gives a present to its mother, however naive or artless it may be, she looks with more intent at the love with which the offering is made than at the quality of the offering itself. So I have some hope that Our Lady will accept this inadequate gift for the sake of my devotion to her.
Incidentally the poem consists of fourteen lines each having ten syllables. This yields a total of one hundred and forty syllables. 140 is a number which is divisible both by seven and by ten and adding the numerals 1, 4 and 0 gives us five. Medieval readers would have seen mystical significance in the ten commandments, seven sorrows of Mary and five wounds of Christ being represented in such a fashion. Whether, in fact, any such significance exists is for me to know and you to find out.
Catholic Scot has a Facebook page
My *other* blog is thoughtfully detached
The painting is Virgin and Child with Milk Soup by Gerard David
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